The Pieces of You and Me
by Shatteredsand
Summary: They shouldn't be thinking like this. They shouldn't notcie these things. Not about each other.
1. Hands

**AN: Just a little random one shot that popped into my head. The first part is from Elena's POV, the second from Damon's. Please, please, please review. Seriously, PLEASE.**

**Warnings: None**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Vampire Diaries…**

**Hands**

I only held them for a minute. I didn't really have a choice. It was hold his hands for a three minute dance or be humiliated because I had no one to dance with. So I held his hands. And, god, I can't believe I'm even writing this down…It was _nice_.

Stefan's hands are so big. They dwarf mine; wrap them up in his warmth and safety. But Damon's hands; Damon's fit perfectly around mine, smooth and secure. They hold my own with flawless grace and firm strength. It was nice.

But it doesn't mean anything. Stefan's large protective hands are the ones meant for mine. Because Stefan is big and kind and protective, and, alright, okay, a little overbearing. But I love him. I really do. I love him more than I have the words to express. I danced with Damon because he was there and Stefan wasn't. And I understand why Stefan wasn't. I'm okay with it; with him. And we're going to help him, Damon and me.

And the memory of Damon's hands holding onto mine so carefully, so tenderly, well, that's just one of the few memories I'll keep near my heart to balance out the gaping wounds he inadvertently gouges out of it.

I see good in Damon. But he doesn't want to see it in himself and every time I see it shine to the surface, he does something to remind me of the monster he so desperately wants to be.

…But his hands are nice.

* * *

I only held her hands for a minute. So why does her touch still haunt me? This wasn't supposed to happen. She was supposed to dance with Stefan. But he wasn't there. Off in his bloodlust induced frenzy. So I had to step in and take his place. I had to. It was either hold Elena's hands for a three minute dance or watch her be humilated. And I couldn't bear to see the latter. So I had stepped up and taken her onto the dancefloor. And, god damn me, it was _nice_.

Her hands are so small and delicate. How can she hold my brother's massive sasuage fingers with something so small? His must engulf hers and their beautiful entirety. My hands though, my hands fit perfectly around hers and hers around mine. They seemed so graceful, so strong, together. It was nice.

But it doesn't mean anything. It can't. Stefan's polar sasuages are the ones that will wrap around the slender beauty of hers. Because Stefan is large and overprotective, and way overbearing, but she loves him. I can see it. Anyone with eyes can see it. She danced with me because she had no real alternative. And she'll understand. And she'll forgive. And she'll be here because Stefan needs her love and support to get through this. And she'll help him in ways that I never could, no matter how hard I try.

And the memory of holding Elena's hands so carefully, so tenderly, well, that's just one of the many memories I'm starting to hold closer to my heart than I'd like.

She sees good in me. But I don't want to be good. That's Stefan's gig. I'm the bad brother; the evil one. The monster.

...But her hands are nice.


	2. Eyes

**AN: A companion to "Hands". I just loved the way Damon and Elena looked at each other during their dance, so I had to write this. I'm think of making a whole little series about that one epic dance, what do you guys think? REVIEW. DO IT. YOU **_**KNOW**_** YOU WANT TO.**

**Warnings: None**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Vampire Diaries.**

**Eyes**

His icy blue eyes staring into mine. Why can't I forget that? Why can't I forget the way he looked at me? Like I was something at once precious and dangerous. Something he wanted to pull closer and yet throw as far away him as possible. Why would he even look at me like that? Why would he look?

Was he seeing Katherine? Had he seen our dance as their dance? Had they even danced like that together? Did it matter? Whatever he was seeing, it couldn't have been me. Damon only ever looks at me with amused eyes, or angry eyes, or irritated eyes. Or just that one time, with hurt eyes.

There is no room in my understanding of the vampire for the eyes I'd seen during the dance. Damon can't see me that way. He just _can't_. It would destroy this fragile thing between us. It would ruin any chance of Damon and Stefan ever truly being brothers again.

It would turn me into Katherine.

* * *

Her chocolate browns lost in my pale blues. Why do I see it on the insides of my eyelids every time I so much as blink? Why was she looking at me like that? Like something dangerously beautiful. Something cold and sharp, but infinitely fragile. Why would she do look at me like that? Why?

Was she seeing Stefan? Sliding his face over mine so she could dance with him instead of his evil older brother? Had she ever danced like this with him? Did it matter? Whatever she was seeing couldn't have been me. Elena only looks at me with eyes full of irritation or anger or amusement. Or, a lot more recently than I'd like, full of hurt.

There is no room in my limited understanding of the mortal girl to accommodate the emotion in her eyes that day. Elena cannot see me that way. She just _can't_. it would change this thing between us from understanding to something…else, something different. It would sever any connection I've ever had a chance of having with Stefan besides seething, pained hatred.

It would turn me into Stefan.

**AN: The last lines from each of them seem really important to me. Elena becoming like Katherine is obivous: Katherine "loved" both brothers and it tore them apart. The bit about Damn turning into Stefan is a bit more abstract: from Damon's POV at least, it was Stefan who ruined their relationship by being with Katherine. Thus, if Damon and Elena ever hooked up, Damon would become like the traitor he feels his brother is.**


	3. Lips

**AN: This one doesn't actually focus on the dance, oh snap! It's just a smattering of ideas on how they view each other's various faces of emotion. It's sort of a progression. "Hands" was kind of innocent, but also kinda crush-like. Then, "Eyes" was a bit heavier, acknowledging that they were feeling more and willfully choosing not to act. And now, "Lips" which is overtly romantic in the title alone.**

**Warnings: None**

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Vampire Diaries.**

**Lips**

His smirk is too sexy to be legal. No man should be able to twist his lips and instantly force girls to think about kissing them. It's not fair. I don't want to think about kissing that smug smirk into a pleasantly surprised, genuine smile, but I can't help it! It's like compulsion, only I'm wearing my vervain so I know it's not.

His pained frown is too heartbreaking for words. He looks so broken, I just want to fall into his arms and kiss the pain away. He shouldn't be able to have that much of a hold over my heart. He's my boyfriend's brother, a self-serving psychopath with no redeeming qualities. He shouldn't be able to look like a lost little boy that I just want to hold until all the pain goes away. He's a vampire with inhuman strength and speed; I shouldn't feel like I need to protect him.

His genuine smile is contagious. When he actually smiles a real smile, I have no choice but to smile back. He looks so content, so peaceful. It makes me happy to see that, even if I don't want to be. How can one guy have so much control over my heart? I don't even like Damon. Really. I don't. I _can't_.

If I can like him, if I can forgive him for everything he's done…if I can do that it means that I could love him. And that is an idea that I simply cannot have. Because once I think about it, once I give up and admit that I want him, there's no turning back. Because Damon is something I can never have.

Her smile is too beautiful to be legal. No woman should be able to lift the corners of her lips and instantly force boys to think about ravaging them. It's not fair. I don't want to be tortured by the thought of kissing that stunning smile until she's smiling it just for me, but I can't help it! It's like compulsion, but she's mortal so I know it's not.

Her anguished frown is too painful for words. She looks so fragile, I just want to smother her lips with my own until pain is nothing more than an abstract concept to her. She shouldn't have such a strong grip on my heart. She's my brother's girlfriend, a flawed angel waiting to fall. She shouldn't be able to make me want to be the one to catch her. She shouldn't be able to make me want to hold her until she forgets about anything and everything that might want to hurt her. She's just a mortal girl, food with legs; I shouldn't feel like I need to protect her.

Her drunken grin is intoxicating. When she grins like that, I can't do anything but smile back. She looks so carefree, so happy. And that makes me happy, even if I don't want to be. How can one girl have so much influence over me? Elena doesn't even like me. Really. She doesn't. She can't.

If she can like me, if she can forgive me after everything I've done and put her through, then she could love me. And that is a hope I can't even begin to entertain. Because once I start to hope for it, once I finally give in and admit that I want it, it will destroy me. Because Elena is something I can never have.


End file.
